


Of Was and When

by Dont_call_me_Carrie



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-08-09 11:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16448702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dont_call_me_Carrie/pseuds/Dont_call_me_Carrie
Summary: bits and bobs crossposted from my tumblr.





	1. The Mask You Hold (Is My Face)

**Author's Note:**

> What is says on the tin; each chapter is an AU, and while there may be some common themes throughout my writing, none of these are connected in any way. Warnings in the notes at the start of each, because some AUs are a hell of a lot fluffier than others [ _e.g. the Magical Realism AU's warnings are very different to, say, the Serial Killer AU_ ]
> 
> **General fic warnings:** canon-typical violence and mental health issues, unreliable narrator [ _for whatever reason, e.g. maybe they're oblivious, or their priorities have them missing something, etc_ ], dysfunctional families and relationships [ _cough, cough, Stark family, cough_ ].

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magical realism AU of sorts, set in the MCU. Add in my headcanons, a bout of Stark family feels, and me having some stuff on the mind, and you get this:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter-specific warnings:** Canon-typical violence. That's about it, really, this round.

Tony was born to Howard and Maria Stark, in a world where magic’s powered by belief and people’ve only been getting more skeptical over the ages. Howard, for instance, thinks it’s bull, even if he’d once thought Erskine had somehow managed to combine magic and science for Project Rebirth.

…which thus makes for a very awkward situation when his kid levitates the teddy bear from across the room. 

As it turns out, Maria’s family had a history for mages, back in the day. Nothing official, because her family's records were all over the place after surviving several wars and fleeing thousands of miles for a safer place to live, but...there stories that were kept in the family. Whispers behind closed doors, of grandparents who’d survived wars as children because nobody had been able to find them, of grandaunts always knew where to find water no matter where they were, of prayers that had always been answered. It’d been simply considered the Carbonell family luck, no more, no less, and she’d never really thought about it before because it’d never really come up. 

Well. Until now, anyway.

Problem is, magic’s getting rarer over the years, and even if Howard had dismissed it as bull, there’s some very… _ **shady**_ organizations that wouldn’t hesitate to kidnap anyone rumored to have even an inkling of power. Howard’s seen some shit over the years, and part of why he’s grown increasingly disillusioned with magic is because of the impact he’s seen it have: reports of children being abducted, of mages who are actually charlatans screwing people over. 

So when his own son turns out to have the potential to be a powerful mage, he…doesn’t react well. Not to say he’s abusive or anything! [ _…not intentionally, at least._ ]

But Howard—and Maria, and Jarvis as well, for that matter—was terrified of the danger said power put his son in, which affected his actions, and, in turn, his relationship with his son. 

Howard from then on was constantly out, constantly busy, hunting down every rumor of magic with a fervency that bordered on obsession. Everyone assumes he’s just doing it because of a possible lead for finding Steve—which, okay, he’ll go with, because at least that way they’re not looking too closely at anything else. [ _If it means he has a slightly distant relationship with his son, well, so be it—at least this way, he’s safe._ ] 

Maria and Jarvis thus end up being the ones raising Tony the most, which is quite a bit more stressful than it sounds, between his genius and the fact the Stark family practically lives under the spotlight.

 

One of the things Tony picks up early on is masks.  

 

From there, he only gets more, and more—because his mom and Jarvis did their best to teach him how to keep a secret, how to hide in plain sight, how to lie without saying anything but the truth with a smile on his face. During his rare visits, Howard emphasizes hiding his power the best he can, because it’s not _safe_ otherwise, and given he’s already been kidnapped for being the son of a rich man, well…

Tony agrees. He’d rather not risk it, would rather keep his power as an ace up his sleeve if he can help it. So it stays the family secret, and his masks only grow more and more refined as time goes on. It helps that he’s a genius, and that he can make numbers dance with the same ease he can play with fire.

Time goes on, and his masks only get better as his role grows. 

Then his parents die, and Jarvis, and…something _ **breaks.**_

Something breaks, and suddenly, Tony’s not sure what’s his mask and what isn’t, because his beliefs have suddenly been uprooted. Suddenly, everything that'd made up the foundations of his life have been torn away from him in one fell swoop, and Tony's a tiny boat trying desperately not to capsize in the storm.

But he carries on. He’s not sure what exactly is and isn’t the mask anymore, but he carries on because the show must go on and the spotlight’s on him now.

 

It goes on in this pattern for years. 

 

Then, Afghanistan happens, and Tony _feels_ something deep in his chest uncoil when he sees his name on the bomb that landed not ten feet from him, and…in retrospect, he might’ve been better off if he hadn’t thrown up a shield. Because apparently he’d originally been kidnapped for his brains, but now it’s his power the Ten Rings are after. 

Kicker is, whatever it is that Yinsen did to him also ended up fixing whatever the hell it was that went wrong, way back when. Oh, sure, it sucked that apparently the guy was a fellow mage who’d also been kidnapped for his power, but. It was one _hell_ of a silver lining.

Iron Man is the first mask he’s forged in years, and it is so _**freeing,**_  finally being able to openly use the power thrumming under his veins.

 

No one knows who he is, when he takes to the skies.

 

Or, rather, everyone knows, and the discovery that fairy tales were real causes an uproar as decades of cynicism and disbelief grind to a halt with the HD footage of Iron Man fighting automatons and F-22s [ _...oops_ ] alike.

Especially when, shortly after Iron Man’s appearance, more and more people with magic quietly stop hiding. Most notable, of course, is the Avengers Initiative: the Hulk is rumored to be a demon summoning gone wrong [ _spoiler: he’s not_ ], the Black Widow is a siren, Thor’s an honest-to-goodness _god,_ and Captain America is…well, a living legend that lives up to the legend. 

The Avengers assemble, and save the day, and move into Stark Tower, and nobody knows Tony Stark is Iron Man. Why should they? The man practically lives and breathes science, is a very vocal atheist—no way does he believe in magic, even despite expressing his gratitude in regards to their saving the world. Time goes on, and he gets closer to the team, and the team’s pretty impressed as they get to know him better, because Tony behind the scenes is practically another person compared to the way he acts at galas and press conferences. All in all, he gets along with the team like a house on fire. 

 

Then, after a particularly hard battle one day, Tony slips up. 

 

The armor’s been badly damaged, and he’s exhausted, and he didn’t manage to hide all traces of Iron Man before Steve decided to check in on his friend because he’d been the tower when it’d been attacked. Tony’d just managed to collapse onto the couch in his workshop, Steve walks in when he sees the scratched faceplate, and _freezes,_ before quietly picking it up and slowly turning to see the only other person in the room. 

…cue reveal, and people talking, and confrontations that come with the discovery that one of the biggest skeptics of the modern age is actually the mage that kick-started a magical renaissance of sorts. 

 

Stephen Strange and other magicians show up later on, and reveal that prior to Iron Man, the magical community had mostly gone into hiding out of self-defense. At some point his magic comes up and someone says something about it being a pity they hadn’t found Tony when he was younger, because he could’ve achieved his full potential because he has the makings of a very powerful mage and could reach greater heights “with the proper training”.

Tony immediately snarks back and mentions something about being happy with his family luck, which has them going very very quiet for a moment before asking about said family, which then leads to another minor bombshell because turns out the Carbonell family’d actually been pretty damn famous before they’d disappeared. [ _Huh. The more you know._ ]


	2. Hell Hath No Fury Like That of a Mother Scorned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Maria Stark has No Chill Whatsoever when it comes to her son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter-specific warnings:** This is not a Howard friendly AU [ _borderline bashing in this one, tbh—he's way more abusive here than how I normally approach him_ ], and a... _unique_ take on family values, of the dysfunctional kind [ _feat. quite a few elements of abuse and domestic violence, and a divorce in all but name_ ]. Also, feat. my take on Maria Carbonell Stark, which may not be everyone's cup of tea.

Here’s the thing: it takes a special sort of woman to marry one of the most prominent warmongers in America. Takes a spine of steel and nerves to match, being the wife of the head of not just one of the biggest weapons companies in the country, but also one of the founders of a vague yet menacing government agency and in the spotlight 24/7. 

 

Funny, how that doesn’t make it into the history books. Funny, how everyone forgets a smile is nothing more than a baring of teeth.

 

Everyone forgets, apparently. Not that Maria minds—it makes holding down the fort so much easier when everyone’s underestimating her. When just about everyone dismisses her just as Howard’s trophy wife, or the mother of his child. 

Well. Makes it easier for her to work, anyway. Makes it a cinch, to play things up with PR, when the world does half the job for her, of painting her as something soft and warm and demure, when in reality she’s never backed down a day in her life. 

…which does not always bode well, actually. 

Here’s the thing: her marriage had been crumbling for a while now, between Howard’s nonexistent work-life balance, and his alcohol problem on the rare occasions he _was_ home. They’d had fights—what couple didn’t?—but lately things’ve gotten increasingly strained, to the point where he’s breaking plates and she’s white-knuckling the silverware and stocking up on concealer. But that, she can take, that’s not where she draws the line. 

 

No, her limit is when her soon-to-be-ex raises a hand against their son. 

 

Here’s the thing: Howard has all the power in this situation, if they were to ever file for divorce. He’s got the money, and the influence— if he wanted to, he could get sole custody from whatever judge he wants, and they both know it.

But it'd never been an issue, before. His alcoholism had been something she could pretend to ignore, before.

 

 

Before.

 

 

It takes roughly a month after seeing the bruise on her son, for her to finish making the arrangements. Roughly a month of smiling and nodding along to Howard's talks about discipline and boarding schools and feeling her blood boil every time she saw her son flinch when her husband raised his voice. Roughly a month, to finish calling in the necessary favors, to get her hands on the money and necessary paperwork without raising any alarms and raise _**hell**_ on the way out. 

Because Howard made the same mistake almost everyone else had: he underestimated his wife. Forgot that he wasn’t the only one with access to sensitive documents, when he took his work home, and between the SHIELD paperwork and the business deals at SI, well…

The same day Maria walks out with her son, a suitcase, and two bus tickets, Howard doesn't even notice. Not when his empire's on fire, because suddenly now the press is aware of SHIELD’s existence, and of some of Stark Industries' more dubious contracts. For nearly a week, Howard doesn't notice that his son never arrived to the boarding school he'd been shipped off to, or that his wife was missing too. The trail quickly goes cold even as the next wave of rumors hits the media, and he's scrambling for some semblance of control of the situation.

 

And in the meantime, a single mother and her seven-year-old son move into a small town, and settle in. 

 

Maria manages to secure a job as an secretary/public relations manager for the local insurance agency, and also makes herself available as an accountant. She explains away Antonio's initial shyness with a somber "he lost his father in a car accident", and doesn't breathe a word about the way her son had cried when saying goodbye to Jarvis, or the relief on his face when he read a copy of the letter she left for Howard. Says it was a tragedy, and takes a ragged breath while running her hand over the tan line on her ring finger, and lets everyone else fill in the pieces.

Small town gossip is nothing compared to what she'd dealt with before, really.

 

Sometimes, Maria almost misses her old life. Misses not having to look over her shoulder, misses living in a house with decent plumbing and not having to worry about her son being able to reach his full potential. But.

Here, her son is safe.

Whenever she starts to feel guilt about taking Tony and running from Howard, she remembers the way her son had quietly pressed himself to her side whenever he heard angry voices for those first few months, and it _vanishes._  

 

* * *

 

Tony knows to hide his genius here, to keep from drawing attention. Doesn't want to risk Howard finding them, after all, not yet anyway. [ ~~ _Not until he's old enough to fight him off._~~ ]

But in the meantime, he snuck into the interesting sections of the public library and tinkered with the radio when his hands _itched_ and befriended a local mechanic when he got older because even his mom didn't say anything, he knew money got tight sometimes. Plus this way, when the pictures on the milk cartons start showing up, everyone in town remembers him as Antonio the grease-covered smartass, instead of Anthony the missing Stark heir.

 

He has nightmares of his father finding them. Tony didn't have many memories of the man in the newspaper articles, of the patriotic visionary who just wanted his family back—but he clearly recalls the bruises on his mom's arms, and the reek of too much brandy, and there's no way he's going back to that if he can help it. 

If he asks his mom about buying glasses, or takes an interest in how makeup works, because he's seen his mom use it to change how they look, so what? And if he hugs his mom just a bit tighter, whenever her face shutters when they see his face in yet another news article, well, that's just a coincidence.

For now, and for as long as he can, he'll savor every moment of peace he can: of not having to worry when the door slams, of raised voices not meaning raised fists, of seeing his mom give real smiles instead of press-worthy plastic ones.

 

* * *

 

Howard never really stops looking for his wife and son, but he's about as successful at finding them as he is with Steve.

Oh sure, he's doing his level best with all the resources he has to offer, but...well, Maria was meticulous when she covered her tracks, and the _spectacular_ mess she left behind only made it easier for her to disappear with his son. It doesn't help that, thanks to his wife's actions, public opinion's split: while the press runs the story of Howard Stark looking for his son, there's also plenty of people arguing that she'd only done it because she wanted to protect her child. [ _Peggy Carter may or may not be in the latter camp, and she may or may not have a severely-crumpled letter explaining why safely hidden away in a secret compartment of her desk._ ]

Part of the controversy stems from everything else that has been brought to light: when SHIELD was forcibly presented to the scrutiny of the world, HYDRA's machinations also came to light. Obadiah Stane's connections have caused a similar reaction, and Howard's search for his family has been greatly hampered how much he's been needed elsewhere. 

No matter how hard he tried, he simply didn't have enough time: just when he thought he'd finished cleaning up shop, there'd be another HYDRA cell, or another weapons cache discovered, and suddenly he's back at square one in his search for his only son and heir.

 

* * *

  

Howard's search was hampered by a myriad of factors, but a very large component can be laid squarely at Tony's feet.

See, between his constant escapades with the town library, and his memories of... ** _Before,_** he knows enough to almost singlehandedly start the high school’s robotics club. 

Thanks to the resources he has because of said club, and everything he's taught himself at the library and in the school's computer lab, Tony's been able to make good progress on technological ways to help them hide. From improvements in how to fool facial recognition, to quietly fiddling with databases and putting in clerical errors to help minimize scrutiny, he's on it. At the moment, his focus is on a computer program: once JARVIS is up, he should be constantly monitoring anything and everything related to the search.

 

...irony is, it’s the Winter Soldier who ends up finding them. By accident, even.

 

* * *

 

 

Maria very nearly has a heart attack when she sees the man tailing her, on one of her rare trips to the city because there were things she couldn't find in town—not without raising eyebrows, anyway.

The 'being followed' part wasn't actually very alarming; she had pepper spray and Tony had made her a taser for this very reason, since some of her... _connections_ tended to be found in the shady parts of town. No, what scared her was the familiar way he moved—silent, but with a distinct air of leashed **_power_** and Maria'd seen it every time Howard had visitors from work over at the mansion.

 

If she didn't have errands to finish, Maria would've bolted right there and then. As it was, however, she serenely finished paying for the latest batch of fake IDs [ _never hurt to have a few extra backups_ ], and kept the same expression even as she white-knuckled the taser when the man approached her. 

Up close, he didn't look anywhere near as intimidating: was it something in his eyes, that kept him from looking like some of the men that worked Howard? If anything, something about him felt almost.. _vulnerable,_  for some reason. Huh.

"Why do you look familiar?" He asked, and Maria managed to avoid him the disbelieving stare by the skin of her teeth.

"Guess I just have one of those faces," she shrugged, and tried not to tense as he frowned slightly before leaving. [ _Was it a coincidence? Oh, please let it be a coincidence._ ]

 

Unfortunately,  however, luck was not on her side that day.

 

Maria hadn't even managed to leave the alleyway, before a swarm of jack-booted thugs [ _oh, god, that was a tac team, wasn't it, **fuck** —_] surged in, and she didn't have time for more than a glance before sprinting away. 

Damn, why'd she park the car so far away? Okay, no, she could lose a tail, wasn't too hard, this is why she wore disguises when she had to meet some of these people...

In retrospect, her preoccupation was probably why she didn't notice the man bowling into her. 

"Watch where you're going!" She hissed, and frantically checked to make sure she didn't drop anything.

"Sorry," he muttered absently, and she noticed the way he checked over his shoulder, and the fear in his eyes.

 

Oh, no.

"They're after _you?_ "

That was new.

He blinked at at her. "Why would they be—oh, it's you again. Wait, _why'd_ they be after **_you?_** "

"No reason." Maria snapped, a tad too sharp to be anything other than an indictment, and promptly kicked herself. "Look, I don't think it really matters, let's just _go._ "

Of course he ran the same way she was headed. Of course.

"Why are you following me?!" He growled when he noticed, and Maria's grip on her taser had never been tighter.

"I have a car parked over here, jackass."

She yanked her keys out, and paused for a second. Intimidating as he was...no, she had to think of Tony, their safety came first.

...but he was in a pinch, possibly running from someone who meant him harm, and **damn** if that didn't feel familiar.

"Think you can duck, or hide in the trunk?" She asked as she unlocked her car, ripping off her wig as she went.

He didn't hesitate. "Trunk. I'm too visible for anything else."

"Fine, just get in there and don't make me regret this. I'll let you out when I find somewhere safer."

 

They make their escape, and Maria's face didn't change even when she saw the police cars pulling up to the area she'd just left. [ _Oh fuck, that was **close.**_ ]

She did her best to look nondescript, and pulled over the moment she found a parking garage that didn't look too busy.

"Thanks." The man said, once he was out, and—okay, _seriously,_ how did he, a man who must've outweighed her by at least two stone and had the build of a soldier, manage to look more vulnerable than her son?!

Oh, no. Maria was probably going to regret this, she could already tell, but...screw it. She'd had to carve a path to safety with her own two hands because nobody else had been willing to help, and the look in his eyes reminded her of things she'd rather forget. 

 

Maria hadn't expected to adopt a mostly-amnesiac assassin into her family, but she wasn't complaining. Much, anyway. 

"Okay, anyone asks, you're my brother who just got back from the Army, deal?"

"Deal."

 

* * *

 

 

The Winter Soldier— _James,_ his name was James, now— hadn't expected this, when he'd first met Maria.

'This' meaning...well, the situation in general, really. When they'd been running from a HYDRA squad, he'd been on guard because typically only a handful of people tended to be the sort who popped up on their radar. He'd expected a spy, an official, or maybe a researcher who'd managed evade capture—and instead, he'd found himself smack-dab in a situation that...

Well. On the plus side, he's grateful his initial impression of Maria was right: she wasn't that bad a person. Surprisingly ruthless, maybe, and with a head for intel that had him wondering why the hell she was a civilian, but the more time passed, the more he twigged to the _why,_ and it...as it was, he'd had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he'd seen the first clues of it, when Maria had tried to laugh off why she'd been running with him. 

And then there was her son—her son, who he was _still_ amazed she'd trusted him with, considering everything—who'd been both horrified and fascinated by his arm, and had been working on making a better and lighter one because he could, and James hadn't expected this when he'd first made his escape from the HYDRA stronghold oh so long ago, but he's not complaining. Between Maria's strength and Tony's kindness, he'd been able to piece himself together, bit by bit. They gave him space when he needed it, and Tony's enthusiasm had actually managed to unearth more of his past than he'd ever expected, and...and it also made their situation more glaringly heartbreaking with every day that passed.

Because the more James knows himself, the more pieces he gets to the puzzle that was their strange little household. Maria, who was paranoid about being found, who had a faded tan line around her ring finger and didn't falter even during his worst flashbacks. Not to mention Tony, who had been unusually wary at first, when he'd first started to live with them—and that's where he started feeling sick, because Tony was so, _so_ caring and yet he'd _paled_ when James' arm had malfunctioned and cracked a plate. Oh, sure, the kid had laughed it off, but...

All the pieces, when they were put together, painted a very ugly picture long before Maria told him the full story, and James had to resist the temptation to just storm out and deck her [ _still-living,_ ~~ _for now_~~ ] husband, Howard Stark. In the meantime, however, he contented himself with teaching both Maria and Tony as much as he could about self-defense, and working as another mechanic because Tony was gearing up to go to college and Maria's savings only went so far.

Things would be different when Tony was of age— custody wouldn't be an issue, there would be no need to hide anymore. 

...he still called dibs on punching Howard, though.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …you get the point. just— the idea of Maria taking absolutely no prisoners where her family’s concerned. None. Because it takes a special sort of woman to marry one of the biggest names in the arms industry, and if you go after her child she won’t just _annihilate_ you, she’ll salt the earth as well. 
> 
> Bonus: Tony ends up going to college, making waves along the way because _hello, genius,_ and starting his own company. In green energy, and robotics, instead of weapons, because here he’s allowed to explore what he wants and between DUM-E, You, and JARVIS, it’s pretty damn obvious where his interests lie. Not sure how Howard'd take it, if he lived to see it [ _read: didn't get in an accident_ ]. Especially because he’s seeing all the potential his son had, and that his wife basically stole his legacy away, combined with how successful Tony is now, is…well, not pretty. Also, Bucky's sucker-punching him is still most definitely a go, in this one.


	3. A Therapy Cat is Worth A Thousand Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what it says on the tin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the same askmeme as the others, just spruced up a bit. This type of title isn't really my style, so it made for an interesting exercise in more ways than one.
> 
>  **Chapter-specific warnings:** Set at the end of Iron Man 3, so expect canon-typical mental health issues, and not exactly friendly treatment of some characters.

Maybe in another life, Tony would have felt nothing but hurt when he saw the way Bruce sleeping. Would have felt raw, felt a pang of betrayal because he'd put himself out there, had relived the trauma of the past few months in an attempt to reach out, to get help from at least _one_ person in his life.

 

 

In this world, however, the first thing that comes to mind when he hears Bruce's quiet snoring is—

"You know what? Screw it. If I'm going to talk to someone that's going to ignore me, I might as well get a cat."

 

 

And that's that. Just another off-the-cuff remark, nothing serious, just a random thought because it was either that or acknowledge that a twelve-year-old had been more considerate of his issues than the man Tony had done his level best to befriend.

Or, at least, that's the plan—right up until he goes on a coffee run, and all but trips over what looks like an old rug on his way back.

Well, less 'trips over' and more 'races behind a dumpster because flashbacks are a _bitch_ and turns out the spot was already occupied', but _semantics_. 

Either way, Tony found himself grounding himself with the heat of the coffee he'd spilled on himself, and the sound of a rumble he'd expected more from a malfunctioning diesel engine than the one-eyed mat of grey fur currently trying to get to what was left of his drink. It didn't leave even after his breathing was steady again, and Tony couldn't help but remember that stray thought, and...huh. There's an idea.

Oh, screw it, why not. Apart from JARVIS and his recently-rescued robots, it wasn't like there was anyone waiting for him at home, anyway.

 

"JARVIS," Tony said, tapping his headset with one hand while he petted the alley cat with the other, "make an appointment with a veterinarian, will you? And order cat food and whatever else it is this guy'll need. See if there's anyone missing this him too, while you're at it. Otherwise, I'm calling him Data."

 

 

 

In retrospect, Data was surprisingly well-behaved for an alley cat. Didn't claw him up when he picked it up, just grumbled a little when he took it home, and only gave the vet an amazing stinkeye when the time came. Emphasis on amazing, because now that he'd been cleaned up and de-fleaed, Data was a pint-sized menace otherwise. Was practically a tripping hazard with how he got underfoot in the labs he liked to haunt, clawed up everything within reach and woe betide the poor fool that stepped on his tail. 

Data was was a scarred, one-eyed little demon escaped from hell with a face that only a mother could love and liked Tony's robots more than it liked most people. Hell, sometimes it seemed as if Data liked JARVIS more than he liked _him,_ with the way he playfully batted at JARVIS' camera as compared to the cat toys that were abandoned in the most inconvenient places Tony could find. [ _Not to mention the unholy alliance that was DUM-E and Data with a ball of yarn, or... **anyway.**_ ] 

More surprisingly, Data didn't seem to like Pepper, and only barely tolerated Happy and Rhodey. Oh, sure, he accepted being petted by them, but he almost pointedly left the room whenever Pepper entered, and only rarely chirped whenever any of Tony's friends were in the room—as compared to the chatterbox he was in the lab, anyway. It'd caught Tony off-guard, the first time he noticed it, but...well, it wasn't like Data saw them much. Rhodey was busy with work, and Pepper and Happy were both recovering from the Extremis clusterfuck, of course Data wouldn't be as much of a fan of them as he was of JARVIS. Right. That was probably why the hairballs showed up more often when Rhodey was in town, why his cat had hissed when Pepper had tried to convince Tony to get rid of him when she'd first gotten back— and ended up starting one of the first serious fights he'd had in a while, because while Tony hadn't expected an alley cat to be a hill he was going to die on, this wasn't something he was going to back down from.

 

Not when, for all that Data was a hellion otherwise, he was a godsend when push came to shove. Because Pepper might've wanted Tony to get rid of him, but...

 

Whenever the anxiety ramps up, whenever his breath starts to quicken because New York came up on the news again, Tony grounds himself with Data’s purring. Plus…it’d been unintentional, but he also ends up venting his issues to the cat as well. Because he doesn’t want to burden Pepper and Rhodey and Happy with his issues, because his cat wouldn’t judge him for being so _**weak**_ as to suffer from nightmares days and weeks and months after New York, or the disaster that happened with AIM. Just curled quietly against him, and rumbled as Tony clawed himself back from an abyss that haunted his worst memories, and used his chest as a pillow and yowled whenever he woke up in cold sweat and a strangled scream.

 

Data's a hellion, sure, but.

 

That damn cat was also probably singlehandedly responsible for why Tony was eating regularly now too, because Data headbutted him whenever it was feeding time and even if Tony wasn't hungry his stupid cat chirped at him until he at least had a snack too. 

 

So, _no,_ Tony's not about to give his cat up anytime soon. 

 

 

 

It helps [ ~~ _—or, in some ways, it doesn't help, **stings** sometimes, really—_~~ ] that the more time passes, the more he can feel an improvement. That, thanks to the support of his own AI and a cat, Tony's finding himself slowly but steadily clawing himself towards something vaguely approaching an even keel. His rants to his cat at three in the morning are apparently paying off, because just by putting it out there’s a huge relief, because it’s not bottled up anymore. A few weeks in, if not months, and Tony finds himself getting a bit more rest with fewer nightmares, finds himself tensing whenever he hears 'New York' but Data's weight and JARVIS' voice help keep him in the present, and— well.

It's an improvement. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …etc. It’d end up with Pepper and Co. _finally_ noticing he’d had a killer case of PTSD, via noticing how much he’s improved simply because of that damn cat, and _**finally**_ stepping up their game because mental health’s no joke [ _and I'm still salty about the way his support system was ripped away when he needed it the most_ ]. How his relationship with his friends'll change once he's on more solid ground is up to you.
> 
> If it helps any, this AU's feature at least one friend [ _I was picturing Rhodey because I'd have thought he'd be the one most likely to notice his friend's ~~almost~~ textbook PTSD, but I digress_ ] going 'holy shit, Tony, have you seen a therapist or something?' once he picked up on everything after the fact, and noticed that Tony'd been dealing with severe mental health issues with nothing but sheer willpower.


	4. Reading Between The Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four people who influenced the Merchant of Death, and one who guided Tony Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still for that one ask meme I did a while back, also spruced up a bit because of Reasons. 
> 
> Set in an AU that ignores everything after the first Avengers movie, SHIELD isn't HYDRA, and screws with the origin stories of the Maximoff twins...and just about everyone else that joins later on, really. Some suspension of disbelief may be required.
> 
> **Chapter-specific warnings:** canon-typical violence and mental health issues, dysfunctional family dynamics [ ~~the Stark family says hi~~ ], my take on Maria Stark, unreliable narrator, etc.
> 
> Also: there's a rickroll in here somewhere, click on it at your own risk.

**4.**

Here's the thing: for all he ended up being a murderous and backstabbing asshole of a mentor, Obadiah Stane had also quite possibly been one of the largest adult figures in Tony's life.

Had been there where his parents hadn't been, had been there to celebrate his getting his doctorates and had celebrated his twenty-first birthday with a glass of champagne and an anecdote when Tony had been about to try and clear out Howard's stash of bourbon. Part of why his betrayal had _hurt_ so much was because of it— it was hard to reconcile the man who'd given him an encouraging pat on the shoulder before his first board meeting as the CEO of Stark Industries, with the one who'd ripped his arc reactor out of his chest. 

What made it even worse is, Obie— _no, **Stane**_ — had _actually_ been a good mentor, for a good chunk of it: years and decades later, Tony still found himself sometimes using turns of phrase he'd picked up from the man, or mannerisms, and each time he noticed it only soured his memory that much more. 

So Tony does his best to bury it, to lay it all to rest alongside the Merchant of Death, and moves on. [ _Or, well. Tries to, anyway._ ]

 

 

 

The team's only just staring to get to know each other outside of a crisis situation, and it's...a work in progress. Nobody's sure who keeps finishing off the milk but puts the empty carton back in the fridge, Natasha and Tony keep stumbling over each others' stashes— of guns and snacks, respectively— and it takes over a week for Steve to stop startling whenever JARVIS speaks, and sure, it's different, but.

Bruce and Tony have a field day in the labs, Clint and Natasha are thick as thieves since day one, Steve manages to convince everyone to have a movie night once a week and Thor is the first to agree, and...it's nice. 

In the wake of the Battle of New York, it's a whole new world out there, and that everyone backs each other up when push comes to shove is...it's something. Nobody's going to be the first to admit to something so sappy, but everyone's thinking it whenever Steve cajoles Tony into getting some sleep after an engineering binge, or Clint's gleefully testing out new arrows, or Bruce and Natasha share a cup of tea and just share a Look when Thor storms in covered in glitter, swearing revenge against whoever tampered with the showers.

Of course, it's not all fun and games— but the truth of the matter is, for a team meant to deal with the most extreme of special circumstances, the Avengers are surprisingly domestic. It's a good thing they mesh so well, though, since apparently New York wasn't a one-off so much as it was just the start. Nothing as devastating as the Chitauri invasion, mind, but no one tried to shush Tony when he bitched out the idiot whose lab experiment ended up trying to recreate Godzilla, and the less said about the other copycats the better.

 

The more things hit the fan, the more times they go out to save the day and help with the cleanup afterwards, and return to Stark Tower with dust caked in places they didn't know they had and an ungodly order of pizza on the way, and— well, it's nearly impossible to ** _not_** learn more about each other, really. If only so as to avoid stepping on anyone's toes, like the way Thor shut down whenever Loki was mentioned, or Tony's panic attack the first time someone mentioned New York after the Chitauri attack. [ _Incidentally, Natasha proceeded to hit him upside the head with everything PTSD-related she knew afterwards, but that's a story for another day._ ] 

But for the most part, the team's only barely starting to feel each other out for triggers [ ~~ _because that panic attack from Steve's offhand remark was **not** something anyone wanted to repeat, thank you very much—_~~ ] and just generally getting a feel for each other. 

In particular, most of the team were quickly coming to the unpleasant discovery that Tony's dossier was very, very inaccurate. No, not the one presented to the World Security Council, the other one— the _actual_ one, that was supposed to have several independent psychologists' assessments of various event such as the impact of Afghanistan, as well as the palladium mess...but instead only contained a [music file](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ) of a song that had Fury's vein throbbing slightly and Maria Hill pinching the bridge of her nose when it played across all available speakers in the conference room.

He'd kept an admirably straight face when it played, but at everyone's inquiring looks, Tony snorted. "You seriously made a file on me, and _didn't_ expect me to mess with it? You're lucky I didn't know this was going to be a debrief, otherwise I'd have set it to play on loop."

"You _tampered with_ — that had some of the only evidence we had on Stane!" Fury snapped, but seemed almost strangely gentle otherwise. 

"As if SHIELD doesn't file its backups in triplicate." Tony scoffed, but his eyes suddenly had a glint nobody on the team remembered seeing before. 

It was because of it, that Steve decided to cut in. "I'm sorry, who's this guy?"

Wrong move. Tony's expression blanked impressively, and he gave a sharp _smile_ that had Natasha frowning slightly when she saw it even as he answered. "Obadiah Stane, Cap. The man was there when Howard died, showed me the ropes to the weapons industry, and tried to kill me a few years back. Needless to say, he failed." 

Then, Tony leaned back and crossed his arms. "And Fury? Even _if_ you don't have a backup of that backup, you of all people should know I've got better intel on this one."

Fury's vein throbbed again as he scowled, but this time, he relented. Giving a wary glance to the team, he waved them off. "Everyone else's dismissed, Stark, with me."

 

 

Afterwards, the team tried to approach Tony about it. Cautiously, of course, even more so after Natasha gave them all a run-down on the situation— and Bruce flushed green for a moment and the city was cloudy for a week afterwards— but no matter what, Tony brushed off each and every attempt of theirs to reach out.

"Really, guys, I'm _fine._ " He shrugged. "Appreciate it, but that's old news. Hey, Steve, how're we doing for the reconstruction efforts after that last AIM idiot with a laser gun?"

And he really did seem over it, smiling and bantering as per usual.

 

 

Which made it all the more surprising, when, over the next month, the team got a very good look as Iron Man singlehandedly took on an entire cadre of AIM elite with a dark, ruthless sort of  ** _fury_** that would have made the Hulk proud.

 

 

 

**3.**

To the public, Howard Stark was nothing less than an enigma, a titan of the arms industry, best remembered for his search for Captain America and for being the father of the 'Da Vinci of our day'.

Tony, however, best remembered him for being an alcoholic with expensive taste, an obsession with Captain America, and standards impossible to meet...and that was about it, really. Of the relatively few times he'd seen the man, Howard was either smiling for the cameras, or being a volatile drunk who was as likely to lock himself in his lab as he was to rant about whatever topic was on his mind. The only silver lining was that Howard was never violent, when he got in those moods— whenever he started to work himself up, he'd stalk to the labs, but otherwise Tony got a front-row seat to his father's waxing poetic about Steve Rogers, or muttering darkly about 'those assholes on the board', or...well, the list went on, really. 

...in retrospect, perhaps it was for the best that he'd gotten shipped off to boarding school so early on. Or that Howard was out so often, either because of work, or on yet another expedition in his search for Captain America.

Either way, Tony learned more about his father from the stories he heard, instead of from the source. First from his mom, and Obi— _Stane,_ and that only increased exponentially after Howard's death. 

His death, which, incidentally, was ~~probably~~ what really kicked off the bulk of Tony's issues with his father. 

Because damn, that man sure cast one hell of a shadow, and thanks to Howard's shitty life choices, a seventeen-year-old was now the heir to the throne of one of the bloodiest corporations in one of the most cutthroat industries on the planet.

Suffice it is to say, Tony had not been a happy camper. First because Howard's alcoholism had cost him his mom, and secondly because for all he'd been raised knowing he was going to inherit Stark Industries, it was one thing to know intellectually and another to have to cut all his plans short because hundreds of employees were now counting on him to fill the shoes of a man he never knew.

 

 

 

Everyone knew Howard Stark was a sore subject for Tony. Steve in particular had run headfirst into that trap, and it was no coincidence Tony had been positively _glacial_ towards him long after the fact. It made for a striking contrast, as Tony had ended up getting along with the rest of the team like a house on fire— especially as the team really started to gain traction. After Steve's misstep, the team got a better feel for how to approach Tony about his family, but for the most part everyone agreed the best idea was to simply not bring it up if possible. 

Because each time, without fail, whenever it came up, Tony shut down. 

Oh, he may not act like it— in interviews and briefings and whenever it came up, he didn't stop smiling, didn't stop laughing or bantering or what-have-you— but to the people who knew him? Who could see how his smiles became fake, and hear the strange note in his laughter because it didn't compare to the real thing? 

Not to mention the way Tony inevitably locked himself in the labs for hours afterwards.

 

...which meant that when HYDRA showed up again out of nowhere, it was not a good time for anyone, but particularly Steve or Tony.

Steve, because of obvious reasons [ _nobody blamed him for the exponential increase in broken punching bags, over the next few months_ ], and Tony because SHIELD was sniffing around looking for any clue they could find, and some tech had the bright idea that hey, maybe there might be something in Howard's old notes!

 

So, in between punching neo-Nazis and taking down rogue robots, the team watched as Tony buckled down and sifted through reams of paperwork, deciphering his father's handwriting and talking with SHIELD higher-ups and counterterrorism experts with Steve. 

It really helped— between Steve's past run-ins with the group, and Tony's experience with terrorist groups in the modern day, they made amazing headway with bringing down this latest incarnation of HYDRA. In between finding and raiding various bases, the team also brought in new recruits, such as the survivors of HYDRA's experiments [ ~~ _...because **of course** HYDRA experimented on war orphans in the middle of nowhere. Was there no low they wouldn't stoop to?_~~ ] who _refused_ to keep out of it, or the random guy who saved Clint when he was low on ammo and surrounded by hostiles by literally swooping in.

But even as this is all going down, Steve's perspective of Howard just _keeps **shattering.**_

First because of the way Tony acts when his father gets brought up, and only compounded by the way HYDRA's reappearance threw a wrench into the works: while Tony was the one who focused on going through Howard's notes, it was impossible for Steve to miss what those notes were about, and that...the realization that his old friend, the man he'd known and trusted with his and his friends' lives, was also the same man who had worked on the Manhattan Project [ _and had advocated for its use against Japan_ ] had been an incredibly bitter pill to swallow. Tony'd had to give him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, afterwards, as even more realizations had hit home as he'd glimpsed the truly terrifying pile of blueprints for bombs and guns, all _covered_ with Howard's signature scrawl.

 And the more time passed by, the more obvious it was that Tony was most definitely his son, just with the offhand remarks he made.

"You think these are a lot, you should've seen the ones on some of SI's servers back when we made weapons."

"Good idea in theory, _terrible_ in execution."

"Why's this in the 'personal notes' pile, it's very obviously a— _never mind._ "

Not to mention his dedication. No, really: Steve got uncomfortably reminded of what he'd heard of Howard's obsession with finding him, when he saw Tony's single-minded intensity in pursuing some of the leads they had on the latest HYDRA cell— to the point where he had to all but drag Tony to bed because apparently switching his coffee to decaf after the nth time wasn't enough. 

On the one hand, it was heartwarming to see that in some ways, the apple didn't fall far from the tree. On the other, seeing the _speed_ with which Tony plowed through the paperwork was actually pretty intimidating— especially because Steve knew he was doing it for the team, because this latest cell was the one who'd used Pietro and Wanda as lab rats. Tony was proving to be nothing if not vengeful when it came to the people he cared about. 

 

 

 

**2.**

For obvious reasons, everyone seemed to love comparing Tony to his father. From looks, to brains, the works— which in and of itself was annoying enough, but if that'd been it, Tony would have been able to at least tolerate it. But no, apparently, that wasn't enough for the world, they had to go and erase his mom from the picture as well. 

Even if she was the parent who'd actually been in the picture when it came to raising him, even if she'd taught him everything he knew about masks and cameras, about _smiles_ like bared teeth and how to use image as a weapon, apparently that wasn't enough for the world. Where even now, decades after his death, Tony had to sit through people bringing up his father every so often— he'd had to resort to having Stark Industries' largest charities renamed in her honor, just to make sure his mom wouldn't be forgotten. 

 

 

 

The more things change, the more they stay the same. 

Someone in the galaxy seemed to have really turned up the weirdness meter, so of course Hank Pym had to decide now of all times was the perfect time to revive the old Pym Tech—Stark Industries rivalry, and _of course_ SHIELD was more than happy to snap him up into their shiny new initiative and expected them to play nice. 

Of course.

Not even five minutes in, and Tony could not concisely express in English just how grateful he was that he was still 'only' a consultant for this mess. Gods only knew that if they had to spend more time than absolutely necessary, Tony just might become a supervillain out of _sheer spite_ because he'd forgotten just how much of a pain it was to deal with the old geezer. With the constant glares and frowns and general air of disapproval that reminded Tony of his father more than anything else [ ~~ _and wouldn't **that** be a hilarious mental image, if Hank were to ever find out?_~~ ] and had him gritting his teeth and biting back pointed comments of his own.

Admittedly, though, there was also one hell of a silver lining to this mess, via the free entertainment to be had with seeing Hank 'Don't Trust Anyone, Especially With My Tech' Pym facing off against Nick 'My Secrets Have Secrets, Also Fuck You' Fury. 

Really, it almost made up for the passive-aggressive World War III happening otherwise. Especially the faces everyone else made— from Natasha's too-controlled-to-be-doing-anything-but-laughing polite blankness, or Sam's befuddlement, or the new guy's [ _Scott, was it?_ ] mix of fascinated horror. It'd be hilarious, if things weren't so serious. As it was, however, he couldn't help but exchange a look of _'are they serious?'_  and _'looks like I'm going to have to bite the bullet'_ with Hope Van Dyne, once their argument went over five minutes and Fury's vein started to visibly throb, and he finally cut in.

"Pym, you're pushing to having two of your people join the team, _why_ are you complaining about oversight again?"

"I don't trust—"

"Oh for fuck's sake, Hank, I don't give a—" Tony paused when he noticed the even-more-murderous-than-usual glare Fury was giving him, then continued with slightly more professional language. "I could not care less about stealing your tech, Pym. Unlike what you seem to think, I'm not the second coming of my father."

"No," the old man scoffed, "that'd be predictable, that I could've dealt with. You're the unholy offspring of him and _Maria_."

 

Suddenly, the burgeoning headache Tony'd been nursing **_vanished,_** and he felt his face blank as he fell into a languid slouch and his hands unclenched.

And then, he _smiled._

"Oh?" He heard himself ask, voice deceptively casual to the roaring of his ears, "is that so?"

Pym, however, simply gave him a darkly triumphant look, before giving the entire conference room a pointed glance. "I trusted Howard as far as I could throw him. But unlike the idiots out there, I remember his wife, and I'd bet my formula you're her son in every meaning of the word. Howard was a pain in the ass, but that woman was a damn _menace. Especially_ when it came to PR."

Tony didn't know when he'd started to have tunnel vision, but with that admission, he relaxed enough to notice the rest of the room. To register the silence, and the looks of surprise, and shock, on some of his team's faces, and the distinct _'yep, that about what I expected to see'_ look written all over Nick Fury's face. He thought back to the past few minutes, and...huh. He'd channeled a bit of the Merchant of Death, there, hadn't he? Oops.

But he didn't regret it. Not when his mom would've done [ ~~ _ **had** done, more than once_~~ ] the exact same thing for him. 

"Still don't see what the problem is, Pym. Either grow up or get out, you're wasting everyone's time." Tony countered, just about every last shred of patience gone.

The man sneered. "Like I would have my suits stored under your roof—"

"Dad, _not_ the time." Hope snapped, then turned to them all a slightly strained smile. "Give us a moment. I'm sure we can come to an arrangement."

 

So everyone else took a break, and Tony felt himself relax a hair as they entered the hallway.

"Well, that went well." He snorted as a ran a hand through his hair. Really, what should he have expected from Hank Pym? 

"What the hell was that, Tony." Steve said at the same time, whirling on him. 

"Long version or short version?" Tony asked sarcastically, then, noticing the looks everyone else was giving him, continued. "Long story short, Hank's hated the Stark name for as long as I remember, what you saw was just the latest installment of that shitshow. I shouldn't have been surprised he noticed the PR thing, though. Or snapped. Going to need to apologize to Hope for that later."

"PR?" Clint asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Nick Fury sighed, and for a moment looked very, very tired. "You had to be there to see it. Woman put our entire counterintelligence department to shame, I fucking swear."

Noticing everyone's glances, Tony bit back the burst of inappropriate pride that came up at the reminder. "Mom's work with public relations back in the seventies practically defined the military-industrial complex up to today, is what. She did a lot of charity work and political schmoozing right around when Vietnam was going on, and didn't let up afterwards. Everything I know about playing people, I learned from her."

"And she was goddamn nightmare." Hank cut in as he strode out of the room, looking less like he stepped in something unpleasant and more like he'd only gotten out of the wrong side of the bed. He gave Tony a brisk nod, then looked at Fury and continued. "Ant-Man and the Wasp are going to be joining the team, I get so much as a _hint_ of either of you trying to sniff around their suits you're going to be talking to my lawyers."

Tony couldn't help but smile thinly, at that. "I look forward to it."

Pym gave him another slightly imperious look, then shook his head. "Apple doesn't fall far from tree."

And with that, he marched off, leaving Hope and Scott to get to know their new teammates in his wake.

Tony finally let his shoulders relax, and let his smile become a genuine one as he turned to them. "Welcome to the team, you two."

 

 

 

**1.**

Nick Fury saw Tony growing up, because he’d been a trusted junior agent at the time, and running security for one of the founders of SHIELD. 

It shouldn't have meant anything. In another life, it _wouldn't_ have, but...Nick Fury had a terrible habit of not caring for people, even if he didn't trust them. He wasn't obvious about it, but it showed in the little things: with the way he kept tabs on the kid, with the quiet pride he felt when the list of Tony's accomplishments grew, with the way he discreetly ran interference when the World Security Council tried to sniff around and possibly snap him up after his parents died. If Obadiah Stane hadn't taken the kid under his wing, he would've been tempted to [ ~~ _—and years later, he'd feel a tiny pang of regret for it_~~ ].

For his part, Tony remembered seeing him around the mansion more often than he had Howard. Sure, he wasn't there the same way other adults in his life were, wasn't as much of a presence as Obadiah Stane had been, or his parents, but...it was something. His mom had taught him how to deal with people of all sorts, and she'd been the one to point out how the man's shoes and stance showed he was part of the intelligence community, and from there Tony had developed an interest that ended up serving him well once he entered the defense industry and ended up rubbing elbows with spies and mercenaries and warlords alike.

 

 

The now-Director of SHIELD may not have been a very visible presence in his life, especially early on— but at this point, he was just about the only person from his childhood still alive that Tony respected [ _even if he wouldn't admit it under pain of death_ ].

Sure, he had fun teasing him and trying every last iota of his patience, but at the end of the day, Tony knew he could trust Fury to do the right thing. And vice versa.

Some days, however, it was harder to remember than than others. Such as, for instance, right now, when Tony was in full armor and glaring down one of the sniper scopes aimed at him—well, not him, at the still-stunned, newly-deconditioned Winter Soldier curled up behind him— and trying not to lose his temper over the private comms. 

...well, private for them, anyway. It was either this, or listen to the unholy racket that was several dozen agencies' finest in a pissing match over who'd be the one to take the shot.

"Stark, get out of the way."

"Like _hell._ " Hopefully the rest of the team'd show up soon, he needed backup stat...

"He's a wanted assassin with a kill-on-sight order in more countries that you have suits, Stark, **_move._** "

"Everything's pointing to him being a POW, Fury, and he's not going to hurt anyone now." And damn if Fury didn't know what that meant to him. 

"Everyone's got a sob story, but this fucker's got a kill list longer than—"

"No." Tony ground out, and mentally prayed that he'd been the only one to glimpse the guy's face because if not, this would be even more of a nightmare than it already was. "I'm bringing him in alive, anyone that wants to get to him is going to have to get through me. And maybe my lawyers."

"Dammit—Stark, he's suspected of the death of your parents!"

For a moment there, Tony paused. 

Paused, and wanted to turn, to look, so, _very_ badly, because this was a tone he'd only ever heard from Fury once before, back when he'd been dying from the palladium— but no. 

The mission came first, he needed to complete the mission now, and acknowledge his feelings later. 

Tony gritted his teeth, ignored the sudden tightness in his chest, and squared his stance yet again. "I repeat: POW. Not happening. Don't think I'm not willing to play hardball, Fury, I'm more than willing to unbury some skeletons if that's what it takes. Trust me on this."

Then he let out a ragged breath as a thunderclap split the air, and Wanda and Sam touched down beside him. Good, backup was good, especially right now.

And then—

_"Bucky?"_ Steve breathed, voice caught somewhere between horror and awe, and things hit the fan as one of the snipers startled and his suit's paint job got dinged even as he was yanked back by a silver arm and Steve's shield made an appearance. 

Great. Just great.

"Hold your fire!" Fury roared over the comms, and Tony mentally breathed a sigh of relief when things started to settle back down. " _Fine._  Stark, you're bringing him into SHIELD custody, anyone ends up hurt it's on you. Personally."

"Deal." Tony replied promptly. There was no way the shaken man behind him was a danger to anyone but himself, he'd take it.

Once he was home, once everyone was safe, _then_ he could break down and think about the disaster that had been the past few hours. About the implications that came with his ridiculously off-the-cuff decision of defending the Winter Soldier, about the inevitable legal battle that would ensue, and the hell Steve would raise on behalf of his friend. [ _About the likelihood that he might be protecting his parents' killer, but—_ ]

But that could wait for later. Right now, his priority was simply getting the mission done, getting everyone out of this alive and well and he'd be _damned_ if he let his own issues getting the way. 

 

 

What Tony doesn't know is this: everyone on the team heard his argument with Fury, heard his conviction, and the muted shock and grief.

What Tony didn't notice is this: Steve's look of profound relief and gratitude, when he realized just who Tony had been protecting, even in the face of numerous organizations who'd been hell-bent on taking out the Winter Soldier. Wanda's surprise, in the days that followed, as the team watched him face off in a legal battle over the fate of James Buchanan Barnes against what seemed to be the entirety of the United States government, as well as multiple other countries— and _win._

But what Tony _did_ see was this: the way the rest of the team helped him out, in the days the followed. The mug of hot chocolate Thor brought in, when Tony had a small breakdown in his lab once they got back; Natasha's arrival not long afterwards, with snacks and a blanket because he didn't feel like leaving the lab anytime soon. Sam's quiet support and Hope's sympathetic ear, and Steve's help with looking up every last legal precedent there ever was regarding prisoners of war, and...it helped. 

 

* * *

 

**+1**

Edwin Jarvis had been the butler for the Stark family for the entirety of Tony's childhood, and then some. 

Where Maria had taught him ferocity in defense of his family, Jarvis taught him mercy. Where Obadiah Stane had taught him ruthlessness, from Jarvis he'd learned restraint. He was kind and supportive for as long as Tony knew the man, and was probably the main reason Tony grew up to be a something approaching a functional adult.

To an outsider, it probably didn't sound like much: to Tony, however, it made a world of difference. Suffice it is to say, there's a _reason_ Tony named one of his most sophisticated AI after him. JARVIS wasn't Edwin Jarvis, and comparing the two would do them both an incredible disservice, but...there was no denying his AI had originally been created at least in part as a homage to the original. [ _Years and decades later, Tony would find that Yinsen reminded him of the man in more ways than he cared to think about, and...despite all the trauma and bloodshed that followed, he couldn't help but think that had they ever had the chance to meet, the man that helped raise him and the man who'd saved his life in a cave would have gotten along._ ]

 

 

To Tony, the gala itself wasn't anything special. Just another fundraiser for another very good cause, just another excuse to smile for the cameras and schmooze and try to avoid stabbing anyone with a fork because _dear gods_ he'd forgotten just how many smarmy douchebags loved this sort of shindig.

Oh, sure, it helped that some the team was here [ _...well, mostly, but right now Tony envied Bruce and Barnes' decision to stay home_ ], but that just meant even more people had wanted a ticket, and while that was good for the gala's coordinators, it was also hell for Tony because...well. For all he'd learned how to act from the best, there was no way he could fake genuinely enjoying seeing some of the people here. 

For the most part it wasn't really an issue, since normally that dislike was mutual: Senator Stern, for instance, had made a frankly hilarious face when he'd seen him, then stayed in the same corner of the ballroom for the rest of the evening. 

So, for the most part, Tony's evening had been mostly okay. He'd had a good time breaking the ice between some of the people he knew from business, with his teammates, and he'd even been able to convince Thor to wear a tux which made the ensuing spectacle even more amazing to watch. Not to mention the hilarity that came with seeing Clint messing around, because the man loved entertaining the kids and that meant a lot of juggling and ignoring old ladies' scandalized looks and anything that livened up the party was more than fine by him.

...for the most part.

Leave it to Justin Hammer to be the fly in the ointment.

 

"Tony, what a surprise to see you here!" Justin said with that same annoyingly smarmy smile as always, and Tony resisted the urge to _smile_ back. 

"Justin. Long time no see." He inclined his head in acknowledgement, just a hair, and bit back the "pity it wasn't longer" that had been on the tip of his tongue. [ _Never let it be said Tony was needlessly rude at shindigs like this._ ]

"How is the...green energy business, is it?"

"Very well. Just broke a new record. How _is_ the arms business these days?" Tony replied, trying to hide his disdain and probably failing miserably. [ _Oh, why couldn't Thor just zap him now, it'd be less painful than this conversation._ ]

" _Very_ well, very very well. We just landed a new contract, you know how it goes. Or. Well. You _knew._ " Justin tried to give him a significant look, but only succeeded in looking slightly more pompous than usual.

Tony let a corner of his mouth quirk up for a second. "Sure, sure."

Across the ballroom, Hope noticed his predicament, and Tony felt a modicum of relief at her sympathetic look.

"But— hey, that reminds me. Do you know who else is here? One of our newest clients, he was an old fan of yours, I think, back before I became number one."

That...didn't sound good. 

"Oh?"

"Ulysses Klaue." Justin said airily, almost proudly, and Tony very carefully didn't stiffen.

When the _hell_ had Justin Hammer started running in the same circles as— oh, _no._  

As if summoned, Klaue strode towards them confidently. He was more scarred than when Tony'd seen him last, more grizzled than time alone would have explained. Made sense, though— the arms dealer schtick wasn't exactly for the faint of heart.

More so, when dealing with the type of people he was associated with, and damn if Tony didn't regret coming because what kind of gala let people like this walk though the door? A conference for people in defense in a country with less-than-stellar security ratings, sure, but a gala? With _civilians?_

"Pleased to meet you, Tony Stark." The man said, and Tony's hackles were raised from the very first syllable that came out of his mouth.

"Wish I could say the same." Tony replied curtly, then rounded on Hammer. "Every time I thought I couldn't think less of you, I stand corrected."

Then, he started to walk away— only to be stopped by a firm hand around his wrist.

"Hey now, we're just getting acquainted!" Klaue said, faux-cordial, and Tony started to mentally catalogue how many weapons he had at hand before the suit arrived because _damn_ he recognized that look in his eyes.

Hammer didn't know who he was dealing with. Tony almost pitied him: there's a _reason_ he'd never sold the man anything, even at the height of his weapons making days.

"Sorry, but we have absolutely nothing in common. I'll be going now." Tony snapped, and if he let a trace of the Merchant of Death in his tone, then that was—his mistake, apparently, because _fuck,_ if he didn't have Klaue's attention before, he sure did now.

"I'm sure that if we spend more time together, that could be remedied." Klaue offered slyly— only to be cut off by Hammer, who'd apparently noticed this introduction wasn't going the way he'd intended.

"Now, now, Ulysses, this is a gala, not a—"

"Is there a problem here?" A slightly accented voice cut in, and Tony had a second to glimpse a regal black man looking at him in concern, before the distinct noise of a taser rang through the air and a choked cry had him whirling back to Hammer and Klaue, just in time to see the latter man crumpling to the ground.

Well then.

"Not that I'm complaining, but who the hell are you?" Tony asked, one hand on his watch as he let himself relax slightly. In the corner of his eye, he could see Steve and the others rushing to his location, and he let himself relax even more as a woman briskly turned Klaue over to...apprehend him, apparently. [ _Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy._ ]

"I am Prince T'Challa of Wakanda, this woman is Okoye, and our head of security, and we are—"

"What are you doing?" A [ ~~ _very, very late_~~ ] security guard yelped, and Tony rocked back, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed.

"This man is wanted in Wakanda on multiple counts of illegal arms trafficking. Among other things." Okoye replied curtly, and grunted slightly as she straightened up, hefting Klaue over her shoulder on the way.

"But—" This time, it was Hammer who was blustering, and Tony clung to his last shred of patience with the man as he decided to throw the new guys a bone.

"You wanted to know why I never dealt with him? _That's why._ " He snapped at him, jabbing a hand at the currently-struggling man being handled by the Wakandan badass in a cocktail dress. "You want to deal with extradition law and jurisdiction for a new client, be my guest."

Hammer scowled, then looked towards the growing crowd with worry written all over his face. Finally, he turned back at him and spat, "You— I'll talk to you later, _Stark,_ " and tried to storm off. 

Tried, because he noticed that there were people with cameras watching, and proceeded to scramble for cover.

"What happened?" Steve asked as he arrived, flanked by Natasha and Sam.

"Had a run-in with Justin Hammer and his latest client, Ulysses Klaue. That's him right over there," Tony pointed, "because _apparently_ he's been doing the illegal arms trafficking in places that had more reach than he expected."

"Why'd he come here?" Sam blinked.

"Fuck if I know. To me it looked like Hammer might've gotten him a ticket, but that's just me and my past dealings with the idiot talking." Tony muttered, not wanting to look away from the spectacle that was Klaue being manhandled by a woman roughly half his size. [ _Huh. This might just be a good evening after all._ ]

"...and who exactly are the ones doing the arresting?" Natasha asked, staring hard at the practiced moves Okoye showed. "Because I don't recognize that fighting style."

Oh, right.

"Steve, Natasha, this is Prince T'Challa of Wakanda, and that badass over there's Okoye."

Pietro, who'd popped out of nowhere with a small tower of snacks pilfered from the servers' trays, blinked. "Wakanda?"

This time, it was the prince who replied. "We had received word there was a chance he'd be here today, and now justice can be served."

"But _why?_ "

Tony shrugged. "If he associated with Hammer, I'm not even going to ask. That man is almost a leech for the collective IQ of a room."

Natasha side-eyed him, but Tony noticed the small smile she had. "Harsh."

"Hey, before Afghanistan I had to deal with him regularly, this is me being kind."

"You also appeared to be familiar with Klaue." Prince T'Challa observed, and Tony winced.

"Yeah, that..." He looked around, and frowned slightly. "Does _no one_ remember my company used to make weapons? We were the best out there, you have no idea how many conferences and crap I had to go to, and in those type of social circles? You meet people. Not always nice people, more often than not shady ones who I wouldn't trust to keep a cactus alive. Klaue wanted some of my guns, I did not want to sell him said guns, and that was it, do no pass go, do not collect $200. I guess he's moved onto Hammer, and now...well, good riddance."

"Talk about dinner and a show." Pietro muttered around yet another hors d'oeuvres, and despite everything, Tony couldn't help but give a short bark of laughter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tl;dr: the Avengers learn about Tony in bits and pieces, going from ‘how did Howard raise him?’ to ‘…so _that’s_ where he got it from.’
> 
> Also, quite a few of my headcanons snuck into this. Most notably, Steve's thoughts on Howard and the Manhattan Project: because I can't help but think that Steve 'Crashed A Plane Into The Arctic Because Of Its Bombs' Rogers would've had Opinions on it, at least in this one. There's more to it than that, of course, but the point was to show Howard wasn't the man he thought he was, so.
> 
> Also, fun fact: I ended up completely rewriting the ending. 
> 
> Originally it was simply supposed to be just the team meeting Justin Hammer, seeing him interact with Tony, and going 'O.o what the hell happened to make such a difference?' because they're basically polar opposites despite having quite a similarities in their circumstances. Then, afterwards, they'd learn about JARVIS' human namesake and it'd end on a 'families of choice FTW!' note...only, well, then Klaue barged in, and next thing I know Black Panther wanted to make a cameo and _dammit_ this was supposed to be an off-the-cuff _fic idea,_ not an actual oneshot, gdi. *headdesk*

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed it, please leave a comment. Also, if you want to play with any of it, be my guest! Most of this is stuff I don't have the time to do justice, so the more the merrier.


End file.
